19. Stop meddling
My eyelids refused to open. Shapes were moving in the distance, silhouettes drifting towards me. I tried to force them to move, but the bright light snapped them shut. I persevered and eventually rubbed them open. Before me was a dazzling vision. Was it an angel dressed in white? Was this the end of my life? Was I in heaven? The vision spoke.
“Father, quick, he’s coming to.”
I recognised that voice. It was important, why was it important?
“Father, hurry, he’s coming round.”
It was Louisa! I dragged myself upright and took in my surroundings. I was lying on a sofa in a light and airy breakfast room, dressed in pyjamas and propped up with a mountain of cushions. For some reason a bandage was wrapped tightly around my head. I winced as I tried to move, then the memorie
